


Reveal

by eb18490



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eb18490/pseuds/eb18490
Summary: You finally give Bucky an explanation.





	Reveal

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Marvel fanfic, sorry if it's terrible. It's also on tumblr.

It had been almost a year since you had been brought to join the Avengers, but every time Bucky came near you you’d jolt away, keeping not too far away, but just enough.

You’d been lying awake one night when you decided to get a cup of tea. Maybe it’d put you to sleep.

When you entered the kitchen, Bucky was there, standing at the counter.

Okay. You’d just keep your back to him, and he wouldn’t have to know.

The cup was a little higher up on the shelves than it was earlier in the day, so you stood on your tiptoes for a few minutes trying to reach it, before a metal arm reached up beside you.

“Don’t touch me!” You jolted your arm back into the bucket of your hoodie, exclaiming a little louder than you would have liked to.

“Sorry.” Bucky hung his head, quickly pulling the mug down for you and turning to leave.

Should you tell him? You didn’t want him to think of you differently, but at this point he probably hated you.

“Wait.” You whispered. “Don’t go.”

He turned, strands of hair falling into his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I- I owe you an explanation.” You said, and with shaking hands pulled out a chair at the table for him to sit at.

Bucky looked at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t.” You let out a shaky breath of air, pulling your hands out from your pockets.

Even in the soft moonlight coming through the windows, it was clear. The metal. It replaced the thumb on your left hand, and the pinkie and ring finger of your right. They were still partially covered by the fingerless gloves you were wearing.

Bucky’s mouth dropped open slightly.

“I’m sorry.” You said, looking down at your feet. “I know you don’t like your metal arm and I wasn’t sure how you’d react if you knew about me. I didn’t want you to hate me. I thought you not knowing would make it easier, but all I’ve done is made you think I don’t want to be near you.”

“Let me see.” He said, reaching out and gently holding your hands. The cool metal of his left arm was startling, at first, in contrast to the natural feel of his right, so different from the always warm feeling of your metal fingers.

“Don’t take the gloves off. You don’t want to see-“

He wasn’t listening, slowly peeling off each glove and setting it on the table.

The part of your hands where metal connected with flesh was not pretty, to say the least. The scarring was red, it always had been, and it seemed to consume the last centimeter of the fingers.

“How?” He asked you.

“I can’t really remember. But there was some sort of fight, I think, and someone was having too much fun with their weapon. The next thing I remember I woke up in the middle of the woods, in the worst pain of my life, and with these. Somehow S.H.I.E.L.D found me and brought me back to Stark tower.”

“Everyone else knows you have these, right?”

“Yes. Tony was the first one I told. He’s tried to help upgrade them, mentioned changing them to vibranium a couple times, but it’s never worked.”

“Why not?”

“Whoever put these on me really knew what they were doing. There are thousands of small wires connected to nerves and muscles in my hands, and Tony says that even attempting to remove them might mess up my hands forever. We’re not even sure what half the wires are for, only that they’re not hurting me.”

He turned your hands over, studying the metal fingers from a new angle.

“I’m sorry, Bucky, if I ever made you think I didn’t like you because of your arm. I really like you. More than I should, probably.”

He stood up slowly, looking at you, and then leaned down to capture your lips with his for a split second, before kissing your forehead and hugging you tightly.

You both stayed there in each other’s arms for a while, in silence, until he spoke again.

“I really like you too, doll. Your hands don’t make a difference."


End file.
